Confusion
by GalaxieGurl
Summary: Brennan has a strange dream and wakens to find that everything has changed. A follow-up to Episode 12.11.
1. Chapter 1

Confusion

Dr. Temperance Brennan couldn't remember having ever slept on such an uncomfortable cot on any of her previous dig expeditions. She felt every muscle in her body and wondered how she could have become so stiff and sore in only a few days. After all, this wasn't her first dig; she was accustomed to spending a long day bent over dusty bones on her haunches or balanced precariously on an unstable camp stool on the few occasions when there had been enough room for such a luxury in the excavation trenches. In the distance, she heard someone repeating her name. She dozed off again, but was soon awakened by the painful muscle strain she'd obviously incurred from yesterday's work.

Why was her head so muddled? She felt as though her mouth was filled with cotton balls or dry crackers from that game she and Russ had once played, trying to say "Chubby Bunny" with crumbs falling out as they spoke. Their mom had scolded the pair for scattering cracker fragments all over the living room carpet which she had just vacuumed for Thanksgiving dinner the next day….. She grinned to herself at the memory, but soon grimaced. It hurt to smile even slightly. There was that voice again, calling to her…. "Bones, Bones," Whoever was speaking to her sounded so sad.

There was definitely something peculiar going on. Her thoughts were as jumbled as her dreams had been. She opened one eye to survey her tent. Perhaps the extremely humid heat was affecting her…. "Humph! This is no tent, there are white ceiling tiles above me, not taut canvas. Wha-? Why is there an IV stand next to my shoulder?"

She opened the other eye. Seated next to her, his head bowed, hand clasping hers, was Booth.

Hearing her stir, he looked up. His eyes were smudged by dark circles; his face was drawn.

"You're awake. Thank God, finally. Thought we'd lost you; been so worried. God, I love you…."

"Wha' happened, Booth? Ina hospital? Was dreamin' bout a dig…. not sure where…."

Brennan's mouth was so dry, her tongue wouldn't function properly.

"Water?"

"Oh, gosh, sure, sorry, here lemme give you a few ice chips, and I'll ask if you can have something to drink; maybe some pudding too," Booth gave her a weak smile.

Allowing the ice to melt in her mouth, Brennan tried again.

"Why am I here? What happened?"

"There was an explosion at the lab. Kovac's handiwork. You don't remember? I was under the platform trying to defuse his bomb with Hodgins' help, and cut the trip wire, but it was set on electronic repeat. Yelled for everyone to get out, but it went off too fast. It knocked you unconscious. I found you lying in a field of shattered glass fragments. Thank goodness they installed safety glass or you'd be cut worse than you are. You've been out for three days, Bones."

"Your face is bandaged, Booth. What injured you?"

"Not sure, it happened so fast, and things were falling. The catwalk collapsed. We're lucky more people weren't injured worse. Arastoo's arm was broken, Hodgins' ankle was caught under a railing from the platform," Booth told her.

"Angela?"

"She's okay, and so is the baby. No harm there. Choked up from some dust and debris, but fortunately the lab's air filtration system cleared it faster than I'd have thought possible.

"I don't remember anything…."

"Not surprising, you sustained a concussion, Bones. Just had to go back for the evidence, huh?"

"Evidence?"

"You said you'd figured out how to track Kovac,"

"Kovac?"

"I guess I'd better let the doctor know you're awake. I think they need to check your head again, Bones."

"Well, if I figured anything out, it's gone now," Brennan said wryly.

"Hey, you're making a joke; that's a good sign."

"S'not funny, Booth. If there's a bad guy out there, we gotta catch him."

"Everyone's working on that, Bones. Your job right now is to recover. _Then_ we'll catch the bad guy," Booth said. "The REALLY bad guy," he muttered under his breath as he leaned over and kissed her forehead.

"Where's Max? Has he got the kids with him?" Brennan asked.

Booth gulped, then took a deep breath.

"Not at the moment, Bones. One thing at a time. Lemme get the doctor in here, okay?"

"Booth?"

"Yeah, Bones? Whatcha need?"

"Kiss me again, Booth; not on the forehead. I'm not six!"

"That's my girl!"

"I'm not your girl, either!"

 **A/N: This popped into my head while I was stewing over the fact that Bones is OVER after tonight. Sigh a million times. While I don't know the medical condition of any of the people trapped by the emergency doors sealing shut, it's a pretty good bet they suffered some injuries, and that closing scene of a bleeding Booth speaking to his prone silent wife wasn't a good sign either. Four more hours, folks...**


	2. Chapter 2

Back Home

Barely awake, Brennan stirred in bed, shifting her torso to turn over. A sudden jolt of pain reminded her it was time for a dose of ibuprofen. Nearly every one of her 206 bones were achingly sore, incredibly stiff, and hurt like the dickens, as Max would have said. She opened her eyes and frowned at her inaccuracy. Bones were less likely the source of her discomfort; she chided herself, her muscles, tendons and ligaments were what had been battered and strained god-knows-how in the lab explosion. She could have been tossed about like a rag doll and would have been none the wiser. She had no memories of the bombs going off, and little recall of the moments before that. Her dreams were of searching for something she could not find, the hunches she'd had about Fred Walden's bones holding clues to Mark Kovac's whereabouts were just out of reach in her befogged brain. Booth had insisted she take a pain pill from the hospital's prescription before retiring last night, and narcotic medications always left her feeling wooden-headed the next morning. She moved carefully to slip out of bed and use the restroom, but Booth's sniper senses were always on alert when she'd been injured. He sat up next to her, concern written across his handsome sleepy face, and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

"You okay there Bones? Wanna backrub?"

"Yeah, Booth, still sore, but- I really gotta go!"

"Ah, can't argue with the call of nature," he chuckled. "Can you get up or need some help?"

"Ooof, no, I can do this-argh, geez-oww! Okay, I'm upright, I think. I must've been flung or thrown by the bomb blast; can't believe I'm _THIS_ sore!"

"Even _your_ bones aren't magic, Bones! Healing is gonna take some time. Aren't you the one who's always telling me that, when I get hurt on the job?"

"Booth, it's not my bones; but rather my tendon, muscles, and ligaments that were traumatized-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, Mrs. Anatomy Textbook, you know what I mean!"

Brennan smiled at her husband, or started to, but even that hurt from the impact of landing facedown atop shattered glass. Booth had been correct that the lab's choice of tempered safety glass had been fortuitous, but she had still suffered facial lacerations.

She came back to bed and slipped awkwardly under the blankets. A thought occurred to her and she turned to Booth.

"How many days was I unconscious?" she asked.

He looked at her in surprise. "You were only out for maybe an hour at most. When I finally found you on the floor, it took me talking to you and patting your face, but you came to pretty quickly, Bones."

"I'm still not entirely clear how much time elapsed in all that mess, but you were awake by the time the first responders broke through the wall."

A worried frown still creasing his forehead, Booth asked, "Don't you remember checking Angela's baby with the stethoscope and beaker? She told me Hodgins had suggested it to her but you were the one who taught him that technique."

"Yes, now that you mention it, I do remember that. Was I dreaming last night? It seemed so real. I woke up and you were sitting by my hospital bed holding my hand. I thought you were praying; your head was bowed…."

"Well, we've been in that situation enough times before, and reversed too, camped in a hospital room with me in the bed and you beside me, right? That experience has gotten stuck in your memory, I guess," Booth ventured.

"I think maybe we should call Dr. Jursik, let him know what you're experiencing, have him check you out again…"

"Booth, that's not necessary—"

"You'd be telling me to do so; hell, Bones, you'd be calling the doctor yourself; if I'd had that happen. You've done so before!"

Well, we can call when the office opens if you insist. For now, we've got to go in to work. We still don't know where Kovac's hiding out," Brennan declared.

"Your interns are on it, Bones. They're checking the bones to find what clues you came up with in those four bones you wrote down. All of 'em worked way late last night."

"But they may not see what I did! Kovac could be building another bomb by now!"

"Relax, Bones. You taught them well. Ange said Hodgins gave them quite a pep talk; said you'd trained them thoroughly, precisely for a critical moment like this. They've got this. They'll figure it out. Maybe not quite as fast as your genius brain, but you'll see. They'll come through!" Booth reassured her.

"Give your brain a break. If you relax a little, your thoughts might pop back into place and you'll be 'all better' real soon," he suggested.

"I still need to _be_ there, Booth-"

"Temperance, give them some credence. _You_ were their teacher. There's no mentor better than you. Baby birds hafta fly for themselves. You'll see, I promise. Give them til at least tomorrow morning. If they haven't solved your clues by then, you can have another go at the bones, okay?"

Booth's cell phone jangled and vibrated on the bedside table just then.

"Booth."

"Hey, Booth, Clark Edison here. Ms. Warren found a mark on one of Fred Walden's teeth; an incisor. Never mind which one. "

"The important thing is, she realized Dr. Brennan wanted to test the enamel. Wendell figured out why. It'll tell us where he grew up. Hodgins is running the tests right now."

"We think Kovacs chose Walden to escape with on purpose. Daisy realized he needed a place to hide. A place to hole up; maybe somewhere off the grid;"

Booth finished his statement. "And once you know where he lived as a kid, there's we'll probably find Kovacs. Once he had what he needed from Walden, he killed him!"

He clicked off the call and looked at his wife.

"See, Bones, I toldja! They came through for you. They figured it out. You trained them perfectly!"


	3. Chapter 3

Surprises

The next few days were a blur of activity as the FBI worked toward neutralizing Mark Kovac's violent schemes. The man had died in a fiery blaze on the remote farm where he'd been found, thanks to the former Jeffersonian interns' clues; and his sister Jeanine was in custody awaiting trial. But thorough investigation of Fred Walden's childhood home yielded evidence that Kovac had been plotting additional bombings. His unknown Serbian accomplices might still execute these destructive plans.

Booth's cell phone vibrated in the midst of a meeting with his team reporting their progress. As he finished updating their assignments, he pulled the device from his pocket to answer it as he returned to his office.

"Booth."

"Dad? Is Bones okay? Mom told me you guys got blown up!"

"Parker!"

"That explosion was all over the news here, but they're not releasing any names! Was the whole team in the lab when it blew?"

"Where are you, son? Becs said you've been on tour. Billy's playing Eurasia now, huh?"

"Yeah, for the last two months, but we got back earlier this week,"

Parker's voice sounded muffled, as the call quality seemed to decline and Booth frowned. "Parks? You're losing reception, should I call you back?"

"No, Dad, I don't think that's necessary," Parker paused as a ding sounded in the background, followed by the sound of smoothly sliding metal doors.

A tall figure entered the FBI bullpen and walked past the glass walls of Booth's corner office. Suddenly, the doorway was filled with 6'3" of disheveled blond curls, lean muscles, and broad shoulders. The movement drew the agent's attention from his phone and he turned as the younger Booth's brown eyes met his father's.

"You're here?" Utter shock was replaced by a face-splitting smile.

"We've got a five-week break, Dad. I'd already made plans to surprise you guys; booked my tickets six months ago."

"God, you are a sight for sore eyes!" Booth exclaimed as they bear-hugged. "Why didn't you call? I'd have met you at the airport."

I flew over with Billy. I'd planned to surprise you, but when this explosion occurred, he wanted to check on Angela and her family, and offered me a seat on his jet. Now _that's_ the way to travel!"

Booth said nothing. He stepped back, sat down in one of his guest chairs, gestured for Parker to do the same, and grinned at his son.

Parker continued, "I spent a few days with Mom, and I'll see her and Drew when we start rehearsals again. We'll be in London awhile. Billy needs a breather between gigs. The man's stamina is still amazing but he's not getting any younger and he's smart enough not to push it."

"But enough about me. You have facial abrasions and bruises; looks like you got stitches. Did you get whacked in the head? What about Temperance? Who was in the lab when it blew? Is Hodgins okay?"

The questions burbled out of Parker like foam out of a beaker during a Science Dude demonstration.

"And Max. Dad. Bones must be crushed. And Chris and Hank. What happened?"

"Parks, I'll explain it all tonight. Let's get you back to the house. No, I've gotta better idea, let's surprise Bones at the lab….Nope, we can't. God, it's hard realizing that place is wrecked. Georgetown loaned them a lot of equipment, so the squints are back in business, but in temporary quarters in the Jeffersonian basement. It'll be several months before things are restored," Booth said sadly.

He stood up and poked his head out of his office, "Wilma, I'm taking a long lunch; maybe all afternoon."

His diminutive secretary smiled knowingly. "Okay, boss, I'll pass your messages to Charlie, unless they're urgent."

As the two men headed for the stairwell, Parker nodded and smiled at his dad's busy coworkers who paused to greet him. Booth recounted some of what had occurred on their drive to the house. Parker asked him to stop several houses back, hopped out and walked along the curb, balancing like he had as a child. Booth smiled, turned off the ignition and parked on the street.

"Bones is on recuperative leave, which you know she hates. Docs told her not to return to work for two weeks. She's cleaned everything twice, reorganized every cabinet, and started on a new book. Her brain was scrambled for a few days; she remembered stuff but couldn't make logical connections for awhile. I injured my wrist going after Kovac; couldn't use my hand to shoot. He was trying to run us over with a jeep, and Bones was really concerned.

Parker stared in amazement, "Ya think? Good use of understatement there, Dad!"

Booth made a face at his elder son and continued.

"My predicament jarred her genius mind, and she remembered how to fix my hand. Just like that!"

He snapped his fingers. "Owww, still hurts though. Anyway, I got a shot off, and hit him. Kovac's jeep careened down a hill, and burst into flames."

By now they had reached the porch. Booth unlocked the front door, and let his son first. "She's probably in her office."

Parker knew his stepmother would hear the door and investigate immediately. He walked quickly through the living room as he heard her call, "Booth?"

"Yeah, Bones, I'm home for a bit," his father responded.

Parker continued down the short hallway, and paused beside the doorway to peer around the corner. He could see Brennan rising from her chair a bit stiffly. Stepping carefully into the room, he waited until she looked up.

" _Parker?"_

He covered the short distance between them in two steps, and engulfed her in a hug.

"You're okay," he said softly, burying his nose in her hair as he had so often before. The familiar scent of her cinnamon-vanilla shampoo was a constant that always comforted him. Booth appeared behind Parker and put his arms around them both.

"Some surprise, huh, Bones? Let's go make some tea for you and coffee for us, and catch up," he suggested as he kissed his wife gently.


	4. Chapter 4

Important Purchases

 _A/N: To all the thoughtful readers who follow and 'favorite' my various stories, I can't thank you enough for the boost and excitement of knowing you enjoyed my ideas. I usually try to thank each person individually, but I've been snarled up in tax preparation and family matters the last few months, so I've not been able to. Your approval, support and encouragement are so appreciated! And to those of you who lack a Fan Fiction profile, all the more thanks, since I have no direct way to convey my gratitude._

 _Growing up, I was blessed with a talented grandmother as creative as Angela with amazing seamstress skills. She always made new Easter dresses for me and my 2 younger sisters, lending an additional air of "extra special" to that Hippity-Hoppity Rabbit Sunday morning. Remembering her original designs popped this story idea into my head. I just re-read the chapter of dmnky's "Killing Two Birds" in which Booth laments spending Easter in Iraq rather than in DC with Parker by his side in church all dressed up and wearing new ties as they spent the whole weekend together (a rarity for father and son when Parker was little.) If you haven't read her long wonderful story, indulge yourself. You are likely to relish it as much as I; it's one of my most favorite favorites. To those of you who observe the day, Happy Easter. To all others, Happy Spring._

Hank Booth was so excited he could barely stay in his chair long enough to eat his lunch, and that was saying something; because he rarely got the treat of chicken nuggets at home, and his mother had uncharacteristically relented today since the Whole Foods Market had offered samples of a new entirely organic brand of flash-frozen heat-and-eat after-school snacks for youngsters. In a moment of weakness, Brennan had given in to the miniature brown eyes and charm smile of her almost three-year-old son and purchased a bag to expedite Saturday's lunch. Hank was at home with Booth, but she could envision his pleading for the treat, and delighted surprise with little difficulty, and wondered if Parker still liked chicken nuggets as well.

She knew that Booth and Parker were impatient to get their all-guy shopping trip underway in order to be back home in time for tonight's hockey game. Easter Sunday was a week away, and the Booth men needed new ties for church, a tradition steadfastly observed since Parker was very small. The fact that Parker's surprise visit had coincided with the spring holiday made this expedition all the more special and significant, since he was not often home to share family celebrations and milestones with his father and little brother.

Hank was still quite young, but having inherited the combined intelligence of his parents, he grasped things very quickly. So it didn't surprise Booth and Brennan when he'd bounced into their room this morning at 6:30 insisting they needed to get out of bed _right now_ to head for the mall. Staggering into the kitchen, his slightly irritated and very sleepy father had encountered an unexpected sight. Parker was seated at the kitchen counter, steaming mug of coffee cradled between his hands, looking as tired as his dad felt.

"I see our human alarm clock rousted you out of bed too," Booth had observed with a grin. Parker mumbled a partially intelligible response.

"Yeah, Hank bounced on the bed till I sat up. Was I ever that boisterous so early in the morning?"

"The year you were four, you woke me up at 5 am to open Christmas gifts, son. And you did the same thing to your mom several years in a row. So, things don't really change, and now you're getting your just desserts," his dad informed him.

Released from his mother's oversight of his morning routine, Hank burst into the kitchen with a mustache of toothpaste froth across his upper lip. He had his shoes on the wrong feet and his t-shirt on backwards, but he proudly announced that he'd dressed himself.

"Pahkah, you gets ta go tie shopping wif us! What color should I get? I wanna buy one with Optimus Prime on the front!"

"I don't know, little dude, we'll have to see, won't we?" Parker chuckled, grabbing the little boy around the waist and swinging him up into his booster seat. "What do you say we watch cartoons until Mom back from the market? Or would you rather play a video game if you're allowed?"

Mommy, can me and Pahkah _puleeze_ play Count's Castle?"

"Hank, it's 'may Parker and I play Count's Castle', and yes you may, but finish your oatmeal first. I'll be back from Whole Foods by 10:30, Booth, so you can fix Little Shopper here an early lunch and perhaps beat the crowds by going when others are eating their meals."

"Sounds like a plan, Bones," said Booth as he kissed her goodbye. "Alright you two, go start a game, and I'll play the winner."

Parker refilled his coffee mug and followed Hank into the family room. "I thought I was good with computers really young, but he's even better, Dad," he remarked watching Hank set up the controller.

"Kids are born with a smart phone in their hands," Booth replied.

"I can't believe our Count's Castle game still works so well after all these years," Parker mused.

"Ralph Veatch has updated it for Bones several times to keep it current with technology," Booth informed him.

"Hank, did you know that Mom got that Count's Castle game for me when I wasn't much older than you? A friend of hers made it up for Sesame Street, but it wasn't ever sold in the stores. She said only a few games were made, and her friend gave her one just for me."

"Really?" Hank's eyes grew wide. "Mommy can do _anything,_ can't she?"

"Yup, kiddo, she really can," his dad agreed, smiling over the little boy's head at his elder son as Parker's eyes sparkled with memories of his adoration of Dr. Bones in years past. He and his dad were really fortunate, indeed blessed, to have Temperance Brennan permanently in their lives, though she would scorn the idea of some heavenly being's favor having anything to do with her place in the family.

bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb

Once the chicken nuggets were digested and the dishes were placed in the machine for washing later, Booth ushered his sons out to the '67 Mustang he'd recently finished restoring with Wendell's help. Parker buckled Hank in his car seat and slid into the front seat beside his father.

"You think I might drive home after we've purchased our ties?" he asked hopefully.

"You've been over here several days now, have you driven enough to be comfortable on 'our' side of the road again?" Booth asked, glancing over at him.

"Yeah, Dad, I didn't really drive as much in the UK as you might think; Mom and I mainly took public transit. The Tube was much easier for getting around, considering the congested auto traffic. When we're on tour in Europe, Billy's crew does the driving since we need vans to move our gear, you know."

"Well, Bub, we'll see. Perhaps I'll let you drive once our shopping is done."

Booth drove to the Montrose Crossing Shopping Center, and the trio headed into Pinpoint Resource, a menswear store Booth had found in Oklahoma when he and Brennan conducted a seminar at the Oklahoma City Bombing Memorial. The owner's brother had recently opened a store in Maryland. During holiday seasons, they stocked miniature copies of their most popular neckwear to thrill little boys who idolized their fathers as much as Hank did. This father/son set was a unique marketing concept, and Booth admired the tailor's creativity. He already owned ties printed with skulls, skeletons, Superman, and other patterns, thanks to Brennan's comprehensive Internet searches for gifts, so a similar set to please Hank wasn't much of a stretch.

The little boy was even more excited when Parker chose the same tie for his Easter attire. The three settled on sedate navy ties with an intermittent thin crimson diagonal pin stripe woven into the fabric, since Batman hardly seemed appropriate for church, and there were no dinosaur ties offered for sale. Once their purchases were paid for, Parker hoisted Hank onto his shoulders, piggybacking the little boy through the mall to their food court until they reached Chick-Fil-A.

Brennan flatly refused to allow her kids to eat deep-fried sodium-loaded fast food, but she agreed with Booth that the grilled chicken nuggets were acceptably healthy to satisfy their children's cravings for cartoon character kiddie meals. Parker lowered his brother into a booster seat while Booth ordered for them; nuggets for Hank and Chicken Tortilla Soup for the adults. As a clandestine treat, he added an order of waffle fries to split amongst them, and swore his sons to secrecy after setting the food on their table. He knew Hank would likely spill the legumes as his wife said, but she allowed his occasional indulgences with no more than a wry scowl.

The Booth boys munched and slurped their way through the late lunch, then binned their trash and returned to the car where Booth handed Parker the keys with a smile.

"Just take it easy with her, okay? Don't go any faster than 287 miles an hour."

"Sure thing, Dad; I thought I'd keep it under 215, actually."

"Sounds good, Bub; let's go. I need to stop by Merritt's for our cupcake order and Mrs. DeHaven's for some flowers. Whaddya think; tulips or roses?"

"I thought Bones' favorites are daffodils and daisies."

"I just sent her those last week; wanna change things up a bit."

"Tulips, then; roses just don't seem to last long enough to be worth the extra cost."

"Hank, do you agree?" Parker asked, glancing in the rear view mirror at his brother.

"Mommy yikes lallow fliers!" Hank declared.

"Okay, then. Yellow tulips it is." Booth replied.

bbbbbbbbbbbbbb

The rest of the day was spent accomplishing normal weekend chores with the addition of coloring eggs during Hank's nap. By nightfall, suits had been picked up from the dry cleaners, shoes were polished, and ties were laid out atop Booth's chest of drawers. Christine's new dress had been pressed, and her first "heels" (slightly heeled slippers, which thrilled her no end) were ready just inside her closet. She and Brennan had spent the previous Saturday trying on numerous possibilities before they were both satisfied.

An early breakfast of pancakes, juice, fruit, bacon and coffee was surreptitiously prepared by the two older siblings to surprise their parents, while shushing Hank to let them sleep a bit longer. The youngest Booth knocked as directed, but that is where his decorum stopped. Moments later, he shoved the door open, ran across his parents' room and leapt onto their bed, dropping a handmade greeting card into Brennan's lap.

"Happy Easter! Les' go hunt eggs!" he shouted.

"After we eat, Hanko," Parker chided gently.

After feeding their youngest sliced strawberries, bites of bacon, and chunks of unsryuped pancakes, the parents climbed out of bed, donned robes, and headed for the back yard with their children. Parker and Christine watched as Hank shot down the patio steps, looking left and right fast enough to make himself dizzy. He spotted his basked under their oak tree next to the white-fenced little cemetery Booth had carefully built for their beloved pets.

The boy plopped down in the grass, grabbed a chocolate bunny, peeled off the wrapper and bit off its head, grinning from ear to ear. Brennan rolled her eyes, grimaced slightly at Booth, and said nothing. The older kids' baskets were conveniently placed beside the vegetable patch and the barbeque grill. Everyone sampled their treats, then headed back inside to dress. Forty-five minutes later, Booth and his children were ready for church. Parker waved his camera and asked, "Where's Mom?"

Brennan appeared at the top of the stairway, clad in a new emerald green dress and heels.

"You're going to church with us?" Booth asked.

"Since Parker is home, I thought it'd be nice if we all went," she answered with a smile. "Afterwards, I've made reservations for brunch at the Founding Fathers. Happy Easter, Booth. You three look so handsome, I can't resist the chance for such a distinguished escort for me and Christine! I'm just so happy you've had the chance to spend some time with us this week, Parker. Your visits are usually far too rushed and short."

"Well then, Bones, off we go! And Happy Easter to my best girls," he replied kissing his wife and daughter. "Come on, sports, Parker, you're driving!"

"Thanks, Dad! Remind me to call Mom to wish her Happy Easter, will you please, Bones? If I call her after Mass, it'll be about 4 pm over there; tea time; though both of them drink coffee!"

Christine spoke up, "Parker, we won't let you forget. Now, Andiamo! Or we'll be standing up all through church! I'm wearing heels, and that wouldn't be fun!"

"Welcome to womanhood, honey," Brennan said fondly.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 "Secret Service" has been changed to a story.

Sorry for the absence of a chapter 5 here, but I thought it worked better as a stand-alone story.


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